


Legacy

by hannahrhen



Series: Prompted [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Casual Sex, Character Study, Drabble, Headcanon Accepted, Love in wartime, M/M, crackish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1618295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bucky Barnes meets and compares two generations of Stark men.</p><p>And then does them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> Came from some prompt-related nudges to write Bucky/Tony.

It had been a bad idea from the start. Both of them knew it, but … since when did a bad idea stop Bucky from doing a damned thing?

Howard Stark was a firecracker—a little man, young, with an outsized persona and brilliance turned so loud it was like a radio crackling to life whenever he entered a room. Buck didn’t know if his boldness was set to make up for his size, or his age, or both, but ignoring him wasn’t an option.

Steve was fond of Howard. Felt he owed the man something—a lot—and since Dr. Erskine wasn’t around to bask in Steve’s abundant gratitude, Howard was pretty happy to pick up the leftovers. When Steve’s attention turned to Peggy, Howard also was … happy to pick up the leftovers.

They didn’t fuck more than a few times. It wasn’t exactly easy to hide, both in general in a camp full of men, and specifically in the same vicinity as Steve “nose for trouble” Rogers. The third time, Steve had glanced over right when Howard and Bucky walked out of a tent flap. They were cleaned up—not a single hair out of place, not an untucked hem, both of them made sure of it—but that wrinkle cut in-between Steve’s eyebrows anyway.

Smile—cocky—and a jerk up of his chin, and Bucky just kept going. Away from Steve. Nothing to see here. Just two fellas talking. Howard bustled into a group of officers and took over the conversation.

Once, just after, Howard had been on his back in the bunk, smoking a cigarette and just … just looking at him. Smirk on his face, a tiny one, and clearly enjoying the survey of Bucky’s naked shoulder, his back, as Buck felt around for his pants. Bucky had taken it this time, and he was learning that Howard was especially smug when he got to stick it in.

“I’m heading back to the States soon,” he’d said, and Bucky had turned and looked a question at him. “You’re fun,” he added, light as a feather. Pleased with himself. “Maybe I’ll see you again.” And that was a question, too, and Bucky had just snorted and stood up to pull on his boxers. Howard had licked his own palm, at the end, and used it to smooth Bucky’s hair back into place, tugged on his collar to align it. Paused for just a moment, like maybe he was going to go in for a good-night kiss, and Bucky maybe would’ve let him, but it was just a passing urge.

That had been the last time.

Met Tony Stark seventy years later. Another tiny package of noise and bluster and … underneath it, a prickly kind of anger that kept Bucky constantly on edge. Bucky watched Steve smile and shake his head, like it was all funny, like Stark was hilarious and not disrespectful, and he knew Steve had had some kind of history with the man, but still couldn’t believe the backtalk he put up with.

Bucky knew to pay attention—definitely knew enough to predict what might happen when he said, “You’re just like your father, Mister Stark,” and saw Steve go rigid out of the corner of his eye as the little man spun to face him.

“And how much, exactly, do you remember of my father, Sergeant Barnes?” Stark said, and, instead of the line on Steve’s face, Stark’s eyes glittered cold. Anger, yes, but something else, and Bucky wondered how well secrets are kept when the men who keep them are dead.

Thought dead.

It took longer. They weren’t at war, nobody was particularly desperate. But a few jabs here and there, a few times he crowded in on Stark after a disagreement, and—

Smug like his father, after, but there the similarities ended. Tony was older, slower—in a couple annoying ways but also most of the best—and he didn’t care one whit if Bucky cleaned up after. If Bucky left his room reeking, hair jutting up at all angles, and missing a sock. Or his shirt. Faced the wrinkle between Steve’s eyebrows head-on with, “Sorry, Mr. Rogers, I didn’t get him home before midnight,” and, “I must’ve missed the Property of Captain America tattoo on his ass,” and, “You going to make us get married now?”

Steve didn’t find that as funny.

“You sure this is a good idea, Buck?” Steve had asked after, still pretty sore about the tattoo comment.

Bucky shrugged. “Naw. It sure isn’t a good idea.” And he thought of Howard, after, taking a pull from the cigarette, and Tony, in the same quiet moment, rolling butt-naked onto his stomach to tap on his phone. Pleased as punch with themselves. 

He realized he was smiling. “But when did that stop me?”

**Author's Note:**

> (rests head in hands) Oh, lordy, so much possibility. So much. 
> 
> ...
> 
> Interested in prompting me, reading my slash-writer whinges, or seeing way too many gifs of Sebastian Stan right now? [Find me on tumblr](http://hannahrhen.tumblr.com)!


End file.
